


Hyrule's Best Kept Secret

by Harperinem



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Romance, Slow Build, shameless self insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harperinem/pseuds/Harperinem
Summary: The Duchess of Lanayru is rarely seen, and even more seldom heard from. Perhaps Queen Zelda keeps it like that for a reason: the excuse she gives for the Duchess's lack of public exposure is a hellish illness that has afflicted the poor girl since birth.It doesn't take long for Link, newly inaugurated into the life of the Royal Court, to become curious in the Duchess's illness. Besides, how cripplingly ill can such a vivacious, bawdy party animal be?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a load of rambling garbage with a shameless semi-self-insert OC for a main character. I'm toying with changing the pronouns once I'm finished and also putting out a "link/princess!reader" version for a more ~immersive~ experience, idk tho.
> 
> For the most part, this story is set in the weeks and months following the events of Twilight Princess, although features the odd recurring character from other games because I felt like it
> 
> Feel free to tell me your thoughts in the comments, I'd love to hear what you guys think.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Galatea had a hangover.

She was woken by the ringing in her own ears, and, rolling from her side onto her back, drove the heels of her hands into her closed eyes, scrunching up her face as if that would somehow dispel the dull, throbbing ache that held her brain. Slowly, she willed her eyes to open, battling the urge to close them again to shut out the bright morning sunlight seeping between the crack of the curtains, drawn hastily the night before with drunken hands. She was not alone in her bed; on her left lay a woman with striking, angular features who’s muscular arm was extended under her pillow, as if it were almost cradling Galatea’s head as they slept. She looked to her right and was greeted by the faces of two other people, both male, one on his back and the other resting his head on his chest, snoring softly. The man using one of his bedmates as a pillow was the only one whom Galatea vaguely recognised: his carrot-red hair and calm, boyish face identified him as Shad, the young man whom Zelda had appointed the Royal Librarian not two weeks ago.

She sat up, rubbing her hands over her face and carefully crawled over the sleeping woman to the edge of her bed. She rose gingerly to her feet, leaning on a bedpost to steady herself as the rush of blood to her head threatened to topple her back onto the mattress. Having finally achieved equilibrium, she plucked her nightrobe from the gilded bench at the foot of her bed, where her lady-in-waiting had presumably left it earlier that morning when she came in to find the princess entangled in the limbs of three strangers. Draping it over her bare shoulders, she plodded to the frankly inordinately large fireplace, from which she picked up the clock and peered at it, a displeased look settling into her features as she realised how late it was. Nearly quarter past eleven, bugger. She was meant to be having breakfast with Zelda, too. Oh well, there was always lunch.

She couldn’t be bothered to tie up the cord of her nightgown, instead just letting it hang loose around her ankles as she opened the heavy door into the hall, and shouted “Mamie!” into it, to which the response came in the form of a scurrying pair of feet approaching, attached to Galatea’s lady, Mariene, who stood awkwardly fiddling with her own hands as she stared wide-eyed into the room before her. Galatea glanced back over her shoulder at her bed, where last night’s lovers had also begun to stir in a tuneless crescendo of grunts and “Goddess, my head”s as they too got to grips with their surroundings and set sober eyes upon each other for the first time.

“Morning, chaps.” Galatea greeted casually, vaguely amused by the struggle that ensued as they recognised who she was, ferociously averting their eyes from her all but naked body while simultaneously fighting for a section of the duvet with which to cover their own respective shame.

“Ma'am, would you have me call a guard to escort the gentlemen and lady from your chambers?” Mamie asked tentatively, earning a short, loud laugh from Galatea.

“Din’s sake Mamie, let the poor sods at least get some clothes on before you call in the cavalry.”

The three occupants of her bed took this as an instruction to leap up and search for last night’s clothing, which was scattered haphazardly throughout the room. They hastily dressed themselves, and exited in single file, with their heads bowed sheepishly. Galatea stopped Shad with a hand lightly on his shoulder as he was about to step out into the hallway, rising to the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear.

“I won’t tell Zelda if you don’t”.

Shad's eyes flitted from his hands to the suspiciously finger-shaped bruises that had bloomed along Galatea’s throat and a slight flush rose to his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears.

“Of course not, your Highness.” He replied with a queasy smile.

“My name’s Galatea.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Galatea, my name. It’s perfectly good name, be nice if it got some use once in a while.”

“Oh!” Shad blinked owlishly behind his spectacles. “Certainly your- Galatea.” The word felt unnatural in his mouth, it was strange suddenly being on first name terms with the Crown Princess of Hyrule.

Said princess half smiled and chuckled at his inflection. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

That was his cue to leave. “Yes, maybe. Gooday, Galatea.” He bowed slightly, taking Galatea’s hand and pressing a quick kiss to her ornate signet ring, as was proper when bidding farewell to a member of the Hylian Royal Family, then another awkwardly to her cheek as a clumsy gesture of post-coital affection, and hurried out of the door.

Mamie closed the door behind him, and followed Galatea into her washroom, where she helped her into the bath and turned on the warm water, filling the tub halfway. With a soapy muslin she scrubbed and wiped at the princess's skin, which was as fashionably pale and delicate as her older sister’s. When the water turned tepid, Galatea stood and was wrapped in a fluffy towel, and she plopped down comfortably on a white chaise-lounge. Mamie rubbed her arms and legs with herbal oils and brushed her hair, before entering Galatea’s bedchamber once again.

Standing before her extensive “day” wardrobe, Galatea selected a simple, comfortable outfit and Mamie dressed her from head to toe. As Mamie was lacing her shoes, a footman knocked and entered.

“Her Majesty the Queen wishes to see you in her study as soon as you are dressed, your Highness.”

Galatea sighed. Zelda must have been upset that she slept in late. “Very well, tell her I'll be down in a minute.”

———

When Galatea entered Zelda’s study, the Queen was sitting at her desk, quill in hand, writing on some official document in her fluid cursive. Her advisor, Lady Impa, stood straight and tall next to her chair, eyes following the movements of the quill.

Galatea approached the desk. Zelda stilled her hand, flicking her eyes over her sister without raising her head, her mouth falling into a disapproving line. She resumed writing.

“What happened to your neck?”

“I think what I want to do with my own neck is my business, thank you very much.” Galatea shifted her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably, subconsciously drawing a hand up to stroke her collarbone and looking anywhere but Zelda.

Zelda sighed, her patience wearing thin. “Impa, would you please ensure that Galatea and I are not interrupted?”

Impa gave a calm nod. “Of course, my Queen.” She left the study, and her voice could be heard from outside talking to the two guards at their posts at the Queen’s door.

When she was happy that they were alone, Zelda stood up and approached the window, her back to Galatea and her hands clasped surely behind her.

“You’ve been having inappropriate relations with staff again, haven’t you?”

Galatea huffed, hands settling on her hips. “Is that why you wanted to see me?”

Zelda didn’t reply. She didn’t look at her.

“I get so bored, Zelda! What does it matter if I want to mess around with a butler or something from time to time as long as it doesn’t leave the castle?”

At that, Zelda slowly turned around, her expression unreadable. “I just don’t want you involved in a scandal. I... I'm sorry.”

“Alright then? Is today’s lecture over?”

A tender smile tugged at the corners of Zelda’s mouth. “Lecture over. But I need you on your best behaviour for the next few days. The Hero of Twilight has been invited as my guest to the castle for his knighting ceremony in a couple of days. There shall be a state dinner this evening, and I would be very grateful if you were with me.”

Galatea knew the title somewhere in the back of her mind, although she had never met the Hero in person, she had heard the tales from Telma down at the bar.  
“He’s meant to be quite the catch, maybe I’ll... acquaint myself with him.” Galatea teased, tone dripping with exaggerated innuendo.

“Galatea...” Zelda warned, her gentle countenance hardening into a stern expression.

Galatea sniggered. “Calm down, I’m on my best behaviour, remember?”

Zelda closed her eyes and nodded, a pained, exhausted smile forming on her pursed lips. She took Galatea’s hands gently, yet firmly, into her own.

“You know I love you very much, and I only want what’s best for you.”

Galatea simpered, and pulled her sister into and affectionate hug. “I know, I love you too.” She tilted her head to rest on Zelda’s shoulder. They stayed there for a moment, taking comfort in the knowledge that they had each other if nothing else, then pulled away.

“I’ll call for lunch to be served at half past one. I hope you’ll be able to join me.”

“I’ll try not to sleep with anyone in the meantime, can’t guarantee that though.”

Zelda shook her head and exhaled. “Best behaviour.”

“Best behaviour.”

Galatea left the study, wandering to nowhere in particular. Perhaps she’d pay a visit to the library, to Shad, who she’d heard had assisted the Hero in his quest against the darkness.

This could be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

"You... You’re on my foot again.”

Ilia smiled patiently at Link, who stumbled backwards slightly, blushing.

“Sorry. I thought I was treading on something.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. Let’s just try again. And one, two...”

Link held Ilia by the waist as they circled around her living room, concentration lining his face as he devoted his whole memory to the steps she had explained to him. Finally, he made it through a whole sequence without tripping on his own feet, or stepping in the wrong direction, or turning too early.

They sat down together on the rustic old couch, and Ilia beamed.

“You’re a natural! The palace people will love you!” She carded a hand through Link’s tousled hair. “I mean, you should probably brush your hair and have a good bath but... apart from that, you’ll be fine.”

Link leant back into the couch, running his own fingers through his hair to push it back from his face. “Like that? Maybe a touch of rouge? A pretty frock?” He pouted coyly, raising his voice to a nasal whine. “Oh your Majesty, what an honour it is to dine with you. Most wonderful.” He seized Ilia's hand and kissed it sensually. “What lovely hands you have, your Majesty”.

  
Ilia chortled. “Act like that and they’ll throw you out before you’ve even sat down.”

“And I thought I was so charming."

“Hmm.” They sat there in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to break the silence. Something made Ilia glance at the clock on the wall.

“Oh goddesses, look how late it is! You need to get ready!”

Link too looked at the clock, and it took a moment to register the time. He jolted to his feet, cursing under his breath, and told Ilia he’d see her before he set off.

  
He hurried back to his own house to pick up his soap and towel before heading out to the Ordon Spring, his preferred bathing place. He stripped and stepped into the Spring, tensing up for a moment at the coolness of the water. Sucking in a breath, Link squeezed his eyes shut and dunked his head under the clear water, scrubbing at his hair and scalp with his fingers. He resurfaced and flicked his head to one side to get his hair out of his eyes, rubbing his face and neck with his bar of soap until he was satisfied they were clean, before moving on to the rest of his body, meticulously scouring every inch of himself. If there was one thing Link was determined not to be accused of at the castle, it was smelling. He dunked himself under once again to wash off the bubbles, and ran his fingers through his hair. He grabbed his towel from the tree branch on which he’d hung it and rubbed his head. He cupped his hand to his mouth and exhaled hard. Eh, his breath was passable.

Now came the hard part: what to wear? Being a woodland-dwelling sheep wrangler, his choice of eveningwear left a little to be desired. Sure, he owned a smart shirt and some sensible breeches, but they weren’t exactly of the style or quality that seemed appropriate for a state dinner. They were drab, safe, unfashionable.

Link decided against them.

On a whim, he fished the green tunic he’d come to be known for out of the back of his wardrobe. He wasn’t actually planning on wearing it, it had just caught his eye in a wave of nostalgia. But now he looked at it, and turned it over in his hands, and held it up in front of the mirror... Could work.

Over a smart linen shirt hand embroidered by Ilia, and paired with his best trousers and shiniest boots, he scrubbed up pretty nicely in the mirror. “Pff, I can do this dressing up shit.” He muttered to his reflection, smirking in self-satisfaction.

“Link!” Called a sweet voice he knew so well.

He opened the top half of his door and leant out of it, to see Ilia waiting with Epona's reins in her hands.

She’d braided her mane neatly and threaded pretty little wildflowers through it, and had polished every visible millimetre of metal on her saddle and bridle to a high, reflective shine. “I’ve prettied up Epona for you! You look nice!” She called up to him, gently patting Epona’s nose.

Link chuckled, and opened the bottom half of his door to model his outfit. “You think so? I figured if they’re honouring my hero-ness or whatever I may as well wear my hero clothes.”

“Come down, I want to see you!”

He hopped off his porch and slid down the ladder. Ilia stepped closer to him, inspecting him.

“Is that your birthday shirt?” she traced the embroidered forget-me-nots around his neck with a finger.

“It’s the nicest one I own.”

The space between them was almost nonexistent, both wanted to say so much, but the words just wouldn’t form.

“You’d better get going.” Ilia said after some time, her voice barely more than a whisper, breaking their eye contact and looking back towards Epona, who was flicking her decorated tail impatiently.

“Mm.” He hopped into Epona. “I’ll send you a note when I get to Castle Town. Postie's not failed me yet on speed.”

Ilia forced down the urge to ask him not to go, and hid it with a tender smile. “Okay. Remember your dancing, and remember to have fun!”

Link nodded without another word and waved to her. He spurred Epona, and headed out of the village.

———

The ride from Ordon Village to Castle Town was not particularly long, less than half a day, but even since Ganondorf's defeat, Hyrule Field remained a hazardous place to travel if one didn’t know what they were doing. Small groups of two or three bokoblins still lingered in unexpected places, and though between Epona’s speed and his own swordsmanship, they posed little threat to Link, they could be one hell of a nuisance. Nonetheless, he remained vigilant, enjoying the journey as the sky slowly shifted from blue to orange. By dusk, he had reached Castle Town.

As he walked Epona down the Western Thoroughfare and through the Square, he kept his head down in a vague attempt to mask his identity. He couldn’t deny that the countless pairs of awed eyes that had once paid him no particular heed made him a little uneasy, and he did his best to avoid eye contact with any of them. The one good thing that came out of his now universal recognition was that the Royal Guards that watched over the city knew exactly who he was, and granted him access to anywhere he should desire to go, no questions asked. From time to time, this unconditional trust the Knights of Hyrule had for him was puzzling: what if he had suddenly become an assassin sent to kill the Queen?

Of course, Link was far from the ideal target for political radicalisation, perhaps the guards had sussed this and saw no threat in him.

As always, when he reached the castle gates they were opened for him without a word, other than one of the guards calling up to the men in the gatehouses.  
A stablehand met him on the other side and took Epona to be fed and groomed. Now alone, he approached the formidable castle doors, which were opened for him in a similarly prompt and unhindered manner as the gates. He ran a hand through his hair one final time – he almost felt like it was becoming a nervous tick, like pushing up one’s spectacles or hitching up one’s stockings – and entered the castle.

———

The banquet hall boasted a magnificent spread, with rare delicacies made from even rarer ingredients having been imported from the furthest reaches of the country. An amicable hum of friendly chatter wafted around the room between its occupants: consisting of Queen Zelda’s court and various other members of Hyrule's aristocracy from further afield.

Zelda and Galatea stood outside the grand doors, head to toe in full regalia. The head butler opened the doors, and immediately everyone in the banquet hall rose to their feet in absolute silence.

“Her Illustrious Majesty Queen Zelda of Hyrule, and Her Royal Highness Princess Galatea, Duchess of Lanayru,”  
He announced, and stepped aside for the queen and her sister to enter. Every head was bowed low as Zelda and Galatea took their seats at the head of the table, in between the most senior of the court, and a young man wearing a sturdy green tunic and a stoic expression.

Once the two women were seated, Zelda gave permission for everyone else to sit. Zelda then stood again, and gestured to the blond man beside her.  
“This great feast is in honour of Link of Ordon, Hero of Twilight and Saviour of Hyrule. I request that you treat him with the upmost respect and gratitude, he is more than deserving of it. For the next week, he is a guest of the Royal Family, and is to be offered every courtesy.”  
She raised her glass high, indicating for the others to follow suit.

“To the Hero, and to peace and prosperity in Hyrule!”  
The congregation echoed her toast with gusto and vigour, and Galatea took the opportunity to catch the Hero's eye and slip him a subtle wink. Link’s hand twitched, itching to be run through his hair once again, and he awkwardly tried to pass it off as an unnatural looking wave to the princess he didn’t recognise. She looked faintly amused by this, then turned her attention to the amuses-bouche that had just appeared in front of her on a silver plate.

Out of the corner of his eye, Link spotted a head of hair that have him a little hope to avoid further embarrassment. Was it... What the hell was Shad doing at a state dinner?

The configuration of the hall was such that three long tables formed a sort of horseshoe shape, with Link and the Royal Family sitting at the table perpendicular to the other two. Shad was on the left-hand table as Link looked at it, damn. There was little chance of being able to catch the redhead’s eye during dinner, but perhaps he could catch up with him afterwards.  
After a little while, he and Zelda finally engaged in some polite small talk. He heard a forced, deliberate cough from Zelda’s other side, at which she jumped slightly, a faint smile creeping across her face.

  
“Sorry Galatea, my manners seem to have escaped me. Link, this is my younger sister Galatea, Duchess of the Lanayru province. I don’t believe you have met.”

  
Galatea stretched a hand across Zelda, offering it to Link, mouth still full with her last bite. “Pleasure to meet you, Hero. I’m terribly sorry to have not been able to make myself more useful to you during all that nasty business with the Twili, I’m afraid I was bedridden.”

  
Link noticed that her last phrase was punctuated with an almost imperceptible glare in Zelda’s direction, which was returned by the queen, although what to make of or do with this observation was somewhat beyond him.

Choosing to ignore it, he accepted Galatea’s outstretched hand and shook it politely, before kissing her signet ring in the manner he had been told was good form. “The pleasure's all mine, your Highness.” He smiled sociably.

Galatea scoffed. “Please, none of all this bloody formality!”

“Language, Galatea!” Zelda shot her an icy look. Galatea rolled her eyes childishly. Link was beginning to get the impression that the princess was showing off to him.

“Call me Galatea, please.”

“Sure thing, Galatea.” He decided to humour her.

  
Galatea smiled satisfactorily, and continued eating. From the way that she then turned her focus of conversation to the lugubrious young fellow sitting to her right (who Link later found out was, in fact, the Prime Minister), it was clear to Link that that particular exchange was now over. He pressed his lips together, chewing on the inside of his mouth as he nervily scanned his eyes over the faces and mannerisms of his fellow diners. With few exceptions, including Shad and Zelda, they were so... loud. They gossiped, they cried in disbelief, they guffawed and sniggered and chortled, and Link was fairly certain that all of this noise would begin to grate on his nerves before very long. Thank Hylia that the empty plates from the main course were being whisked away by the staff and replaced by aromatic, unfamiliar puddings.

Sighing sharply in defeat, Link seized his wine glass and threw back his head, chugging the contents and earning a confused, no, more concerned look from the Queen. He pretended he didn’t see it. Sod what she thought, Link had a feeling that he was going to need the drink.


	3. Chapter 3

Shad and Galatea swept past the orchestra, careful to keep their place in the group dance. As they passed the throne, Galatea made sure that Zelda saw her pulling Shad's body slightly closer to hers, earning a sharply disapproving look from the Queen, at which Galatea let out a cackle.

They circled past the doors to the balcony, and through the glass a figure leaning on the stone railing caught her eye, but before she really had the chance to think about it the dance had turned her back to them.

When the waltz was over, Galatea excused herself from Shad, promising to see him again later. She stepped out into the cool night air, the delicate heels of her shoes tapping on the smooth stone.

“Not much of a socialite?”

The figure gave a start and whipped his head around. The lights from inside the ballroom gently illuminated his face, still bearing the last faint echoes of boyhood in the roundness of his cheeks and the wideness of his eyes.

“I...” he began, lowering his eyes.

Galatea tittered. “I don’t blame you, Hero, first ball can be a little overwhelming. I remember mine, I was about eight.” The memory prompted a subtle smile to spread across her face.

Link turned back around and leant back down on the railing, his elbows propping him up. “Yeah. A little.”

Galatea mimicked his posture, leaning next to him and staring up at the night sky. There was silence for a moment.

“My name’s Link.”

“Sorry?”

Link paused for another moment and rolled his lips as if he were unsure whether he wanted to talk to her or not. It took a moment for him to find the right words.

“All due respect, I don’t really like people calling me “hero”. I kinda just keep myself to myself.”

That was the most Galatea had heard him speak all evening. Enough for her to notice the slight country accent he spoke with that made itself apparent on certain words. Smiling, she nodded, happy to have found someone with the same animosity for formalities as her. “That’s fair enough. I can relate to that.”

Another few seconds of heavy silence ensued. Galatea straightened up.  
“Well, I'm going back in. Why don’t you join me when you’re ready? I’m sure Shad would like to see you.”

Link's head perked up again. “How come you know Shad?”

Galatea smirked knowingly. “I spend a lot of time in the library. We're... close.”

Her playful tone was lost on Link, and he stared at her, somewhat puzzled. He shook his head.

“I uh... I don’t know, I might go to bed early.”

Galatea’s face fell, and she stepped away from the door again.“Stay, please! At least until all of the official people have gone, that’s when it gets fun because Zelda goes to bed and my friends and I get the ballroom to ourselves.”

Link sighed and knitted his brow a little. He looked back over the balcony in the direction of his village, and wondered what Ilia was up to...

“Well?”

The sound of Galatea’s clipped voice brought Link back to the castle. A mutter emerged from low in his throat. Galatea frowned at him, clearly expecting him to repeat himself.  
“I’ll hang around for a bit, I suppose.”

The Princess beamed and seized his hand. Link, taken aback, opened his mouth to protest, but was silence by Galatea’s showy, feathered hand-fan.

“Come and be sociable, you and Shad can catch up.”

\---

After another hour or two of agonising small talk with the equally socially inept Shad, Link felt relieved when the older attendees of the ball, and Zelda, began to trail out of the grand room. Link had noticed Zelda pulling her sister aside to a quiet corner, where, judging by the sour look on Galatea’s face, she appeared to be reprimanding her for something. Link was beginning to spot some sort of a pattern in how the two of them interacted, but once again, without further context he was unsure what to make of any of it.

Once the ballroom was populated solely with a cluster of Galatea’s close friends, the company in which Link now found himself in somehow felt just as stifling as it had before. But before he could spend too much time feeling sorry for his own social discomfort, his eye was drawn to a sizeable contraption made of polished wood and metal that Galatea was dragging along the parquet with a discordant screech. She left it where the orchestra had been earlier in the night, and that was where Link finally got a better look at it.

The thing was around the height of a goat (if one didn’t include the horns), with various buttons, switches and dials running down the sides. The on the front was a fine mesh covering what looked like two large metal dinnerplates, and on the top was a rubber disc with grooves running along it, and a needle on a stick resting next to it. Galatea slapped it with a triumphant grin, and her friends cheered boisterously.

“What’s that?”

The cheering stopped. From behind him, Link heard someone stifle a snort.

“Oh crikey, sorry, you probably never seen one of these before where you’re from.” Galatea fidgeted uncomfortably with some of the buttons. “You know a pictobox?”  
Link nodded.

“Well this,” she gestured to the device. “Is an audobox. It’s like a pictobox, but instead of taking pictures, it plays whatever music you have the record for. They’ve been around for about five years.”

Five years? Bloody hell, the Ordonians must have been pretty well out of the loop to not have picked up on something like this.

From a shelf hidden on the back of the audobox, Galatea produced a large square of cardboard with a picture of a young man with a broad white stripe painted diagonally across his face, posing strikingly in an ornate military jacket with the words “Peter and the Poes” on the top half of the square, and “Kings of the Untamed Borderlands” emblazoned across the bottom half in blocky red lettering. Everyone in the room (save for poor Link, who was still at something of a loss) groaned.

“Come on Tea, you’ve been playing the Poes for months!” protested a young Zora woman, and was backed up by several other members of the cohort.

“Sorry, who’s audobox and party is it?” Galatea snapped irritably, tipping the cardboard square sideways and catching the large black disc that fell out of it sideways with her fingertips.

“Yours.” Came the mumbled response.

“Exactly. So unless you’ve brought your own records, you can all shut it.” She held the disc horizontal and blew sharply across it, checking the label in the middle before placing it onto the rubber circle and pressing a button. The audobox whirred into life, and the needle on the stick moved by itself to rest on the disc.

A lively, almost tribal sounding drumbeat began to emanate from the mesh, and the small group of young aristocracy dispersed across the room to dance, and drink, and flirt, apart from Galatea and Shad, who followed by Link, made their way to a nearby couch.

“So you’ve never heard an audobox before?” Galatea quizzed Link as she draped herself over the arm of the plush couch, but she didn’t give him a chance to answer before she launched off on a tangent. “Hylia, you’re so lucky to be able to hear Peter and the Poes for the first time, I wish I could! Peter, the singer, is such an interesting man, his real name's Eugene so I kind of understand giving himself a stage name like that, and...”

Shad caught Link’s attention as the princess prattled on, gesticulating passionately, giving him a look that put across a sort of warning that she was always like this. Shad's bespectacled eyes were surprisingly communicative to those observant enough to pay them enough attention.

“...got sick of everyone labelling their music with arbitrary names and stuff, so he came up with his own title for their sound called “poemusic”, even named a song on this album after it, how clever is that?” Galatea’s spiel came to an abrupt end.

 _‘Oh Hylia, she wants an answer,_ ' Link thought, and agreed her with a vague “Yeah, it’s great.”

“Good save.” Shad mouthed silently.

Link glanced at the clock perching on the side table next to him. It was later than any of them thought, nearly one in the morning. He suddenly realised how drowsy he felt, his sleepiness up until this point having been marginalised by his awkwardness in his current surroundings.

“Its getting pretty late.” He remarked to nobody in particular as he watched the dancing of Galatea’s friends gradually devolve from relatively controlled to little more than drunken, groping exhibitionism.

“You’re right.” Shad looked down at his watched and yawned. “I think I’ll retire to bed if that’s alright with you chaps.”

Galatea huffed and crossed her arms, swinging her legs up to rest on top of Shad’s lap. “I don’t think you two are being nearly boring enough. I’m frankly disappointed.”

Shad and Link shared a smile of shy liking, and of weariness from the princess’s high maintenance needs. “We could try to be more dull if you’d like?” Link quipped.

Shad rose from the couch, lifting Galatea’s legs off of him. “I’m tired, I'm going to bed. I bid you both good-night, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow. It was lovely to catch up with you, Link.” He extended a hand to him, which Link shook firmly with an amicable smile.

“You too, Shad. Sleep well, I doubt I’ll be far behind you if I’m honest.” That comment earnt Link a disappointed look from Galatea, a look which made her resemble Zelda far more than she’d probably like to be told.  
After pecking Galatea on the cheek, and being moodily pushed away, Shad disappeared out of the grand doors, leaving an air of awkwardness to descend upon Link and Galatea, now alone together on the couch. With no Shad to act as a middleman, they had no common ground. The silence was enough to compel Link to take his own leave, at which Galatea rolled her eyes sullenly.

“Would you like to spend some time together in the next couple of days, Link?”

  
He paused for a moment. Was it a trick question? Eh, sod it. What harm could it do?

  
“Sure. Why not?”


End file.
